


Short Mormorlock Fics

by Autor_Moriarty



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mormorlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 18:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5753311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autor_Moriarty/pseuds/Autor_Moriarty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some pretty long winter, Halloween, circus and angsty headcanons, backed up from my Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Short Mormorlock Fics

_Anonymous said: Hiii do you have any headcanons for mormor (or possibly mormorlock), also in winter? Thanks c:_

Jim always insists on dressing his boys up on Christmas so they can take a sort of family picture, with Sebastian looking murderous stuffed into some hideous fluffy pink sweater and Sherlock looking smug about how ridiculous Sebastian looks. Jim always aims to find the least flattering things for Sebastian, like sweaters with deformed snowmen or the ones with the lights for old women, and the most flattering things for Sherlock, just to make the sniper jealous because jealous angry sex is always the best and Sherlock really does look wonderful in a dark blue cashmere turtleneck with little sparkly threads woven throughout to make it look like the starry night sky.

Sherlock gets very cuddly with the cold weather since he has trouble retaining body heat and while Jim is much more receptive to the affection than Sebastian is, Sebastian is far warmer with all his muscles. When they sleep, Sebastian is usually stuck in the middle with Jim spooning him from behind and Sherlock trying to be the smallest spoon.

When asked, usually Sebastian says that he’d like a weapon as a present. Sherlock prefers to give him “gifts” like critiques on the books he’s written or romantic coupons for things like kisses and hugs just to really annoy him. Jim will give him some weapons but in addition he’ll also have other things delivered, a motorcycle in a magazine that he’d seen Sebastian looking at a few times without any prompting, a new leather jacket in a shop that Sebastian had glanced at with a smile, some new and identical boots when the tread on Sebastian’s favorite ones starts to wear down. Sebastian usually gets Sherlock a microscope or a chemistry book or a heated blanket so he can stop trying to stick his cold hands between Sebastian’s thighs when he’s trying to sleep, though the blanket tends to go missing within a few hours. Jim usually gets Sherlock some new cases and a brand new scarf. Jim insists he doesn’t need anything and Sherlock and Sebastian like to make him stuff like handmade cards since it’s still really nice to see how overwhelmed he gets by how thoughtful and caring they were and they pretend not to see when he blinks back tears at finally having people that want him.

* * *

_Anonymous said: mormorlock with all of them being cute and all three in love but also super teasing of each other equally_

When Jim came downstairs dressed in the kitten costume, Sebastian nearly burst out laughing and only stopped himself to avoid injury. He hadn’t expected that when the man had said he’d wanted to go trick or treating for Halloween he’d actually stick with the idea. Not to mention Jim looked very appealing, the pointy black ears slightly askew and the costume skintight. It didn’t look like he was wearing underwear.

However, Sebastian did burst out into laughter when Sherlock followed Jim in a pirate costume, his usual stoic expression replaced with barely-subdued excitement. The hat, the boots, the eyeliner, he looked pretty good as well but against how he normally was, it seemed silly and childish.

“Need a chaperon boys?” Sebastian chuckled, “I wouldn’t want any big kids to scare you or steal your candy.”

Jim tossed a bag at Sebastian, wrapping an arm around Sherlock’s waist to hold him back from delivering a cutting remark so he could speak up himself, “Get dressed in five minutes or you’ll spend the next month in chastity.”

A tiger costume. A fucking tiger costume. If it could even be called that with how little it covered. It was basically just ears on a headband and some orange boxer briefs with black stripes and zero support in the places it was needed, though it managed to show off his ass quite well. As Sebastian pulled the embarrassing thing on, Jim and Sherlock stood by the door and traded appreciative looks, both huge fans of humiliating the sniper.

And it was even worse actually out on the street. The weather was chilly and while Sherlock handed off his pirate coat to Jim for him to wrap up when he started complaining, neither of them offered anything to Sebastian. Mothers glared at him. Teenage girls giggled. Children gasped at his scars. One even had the gall to ask why he only had one nipple and Sebastian got close to snapping when Sherlock gave the kid a handful of candy as a reward and then remarked to Jim that they should get themselves a child. It got later and the temperature dropped further. What Sebastian considered one of his best features, at first maintaining its size valiantly, shrank down and now that the average age of people passing was quickly rising, he was getting some pretty amused looks.

By the time they got back, all Sebastian wanted to do was wrap up in front of a fire and ignore the geniuses for the rest of his life but when they set about warming him up with their mouths, he decided that he could probably tolerate them a bit longer, especially when Jim and Sherlock looked so good on their knees competing over who could get him harder faster with attentive tongues. Sometimes it really was worth it.

* * *

The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not.

But even without flyers or fanfare, once the tents have gone up and the lights come on, people are drawn to it. The place has a magical quality, the brilliant reds and pitch blacks, the mouth-watering aroma of food that is different for each person, the ever present music of a lone violin behind the sound of laughter and carnival rides.

In the largest tent, Miss Irene Adler launches into her contortionist act, her beautiful body stretching and twisting into impossible shapes, sometimes even disappearing and reappearing elsewhere or creating multiple versions of herself before the audience’s eyes. No one even realizes that their wallets are disappearing one by one.

In another, Mycroft Holmes telekinetically throws knives at his lovely assistant, masking his grin at the shrieks whenever he lands one too close for their comfort, although she looks disinterested as ever. He’s followed by the innocent-looking Molly Hooper, though by the time she’s finished raising a corpse from the dead, the crowd sees her as sweet no longer.

And in one of the smaller tents, the dramatic ringmaster Jim Moriarty introduces a long term act as well as the first performance of a newcomer, promising that both feats are completely genuine, and although it’s hard to believe, he isn’t lying.

First, Sebastian Moran strides out and gives the audience a few roars and flexes his muscles before turning his attention to the flaming rings set up for him. He breathes, readies himself, then races for them, transforming into a massive tiger mid-leap. He lands gracefully and circles the tent one last time to show off, before leaving the audience baffled as he heads backstage.

And then comes Sherlock Holmes, who selects a volunteer and proceeds to not only rattle off every major event in their life so far, but also predict their future with startling certainty and zero remorse. Once Jim has confirmed afterwards with the person that Sherlock was telling the truth, at least in regards to their past, he agrees to keep Sherlock on, deciding to devote some time to learning more about his newest employee, with Sebastian’s help.

* * *

_■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon_

_♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon_

Jim has a lot of safehouses, but his favorite place to stay is Sherlock’s flat despite the mess, because it actually feels lived in, whereas his own flats don’t have any heart because he doesn’t allow any evidence of himself to be left behind. Sebastian also prefers Sherlock’s flat, partially because Jim can’t help but get comfortable there and it’s fun to see him in socks, but also because John is totally cool with ordering junk food and just chilling with him when Jim and Sherlock are debating something too boring for Sebastian to bother paying attention to.

Jim loves watching television. When he’s not working, he’s studying people’s mannerisms or creating new masks based on character traits he observes. Plus when he was a kid, he didn’t really get to watch it and he had trouble people observing without being picked on, so he ended up with a lot of “not normal” behaviors, like the empty-eyed stuff and some nervous ticks. Watching television helps him train himself out of it, but because he wants to be normal, but just to make blending easier. Sherlock hates television but he’ll watch it if he’s really tired, so after several sleepless nights on a case that seems to have no end, he’ll use it to try and bore himself into sleep so he can keep working. Sebastian likes pretty much anything and he really likes how Jim stops squirming and jumping around all the time when he watches television. Occasionally Jim leans against him, and sometimes, rarely, he catches Jim leaking from the eyes. Plus with Sherlock snoring, draped across his lap, it’s almost like they’re a normal family.

* * *

_Anonymous said: Haven't stalked you in a long time hmm may I please have a mormorlock headcanon which involves any combination of these things: bubbles, towels, scented soap, rubber ducks and pure evil?_

Sherlock held Jim’s hand tightly. Sebastian was… somewhere else, he’d lost track of him when he’d stumbled off so he might have gone into their room, or perhaps he was standing just out of sight watching.

Jim’s fingers were so soft, the skin still a little damp from his bath.

He’d been working hard, curling over his laptop and stabbing the keys with precision, eyes dark as he planned. Sherlock brushed past him, enjoying the amenities in their hotel room, and had noticed just how tense the shorter man was in his chair, instantly moving to pry Jim away from the computer.

It took quite a bit of coaxing to get Jim stripped out of his clothes and spread out on the bed, purring softly as Sherlock’s long fingers kneaded his back, loosening him up. When he was soft and entirely pliant with eyes heavy-lidded, Sherlock asked Sebastian to help heave Jim up and carry him to the bath as a treat.

While Sebastian preferred showers since they were fast and simple, both Sherlock and Jim enjoyed baths when they had the chance and since this was supposed to be a vacation, even though Jim’s constant working said otherwise, it seemed fitting to pamper Jim.

Sebastian had left their hotel room when Jim was settled into the bubbly water, finding the way Jim cooed and stretched when Sherlock scrubbed him clean entirely unnecessary and slightly unfair, since Jim never seemed as appreciative when Sebastian washed him, not that that could be because Sebastian was so rough and Sherlock took his time. Jim’s smile had been so lazy and warm, completely unlike how he got while working, something secret and human that he hid from everyone except Sherlock and Sebastian. He seemed at peace.

The towels were fluffy. Sherlock remembered that he’d thought of how ridiculously extravagant they were when he’d rubbed Jim dry, then wrapped him in a bathrobe. He’d still had that loving look on his face and when he blinked his eyes open they were golden brown again, no emptiness at all. The robe was massive and the collar puffed up around Jim’s chin, the tips of his fingers barely sticking out from his sleeves.

Sherlock’s hand tightened. There was movement that he heard distantly behind him, Sebastian hopefully and not those that had done this not that it mattered. A body crouched beside Sherlock and settled a hand on his shoulder, the one attached to the hand holding Jim’s, pulling him close. Sebastian definitely. His voice was low and indistinct, like Sherlock was underwater, and Sherlock wished that his ears were working properly so he could listen to whatever it was that Sebastian was saying to him.

Fingers on his other shoulder, the one not attached to the hand holding Jim’s. The one not attached to anything. Sherlock figured he should feel ill by how off-balance he felt with nothing there, but he couldn’t really think of anything at the moment.

There’d been a blast. So loud his ears were still ringing, the light burning into his retinas and the heat…

Jim had been smiling still when it happened. Sherlock hadn’t seen any look of pain, just that sweet smile, and then he was on his side covered in rubble, coughing up dust and blinking at the place where the bed had been. The outside wall was gone and Sherlock could see the ocean, calm and peaceful not too far off, a strange juxtaposition with the destruction around him. The wall between the room and the hall was gone as well, smashed inward, and Jim was crumpled across the wreckage piled up against the hallway’s remaining wall.

That’s where Sebastian had found them when he’d rushed up. Sherlock sitting beside Jim’s form, squeezing his slightly damp hand and wishing he’d been holding it when things had actually happened. Like Jim had always intended to go, with Sherlock’s hand in his own.

Jim had such beautiful eyelashes when his eyes were closed like this. It was better than when he’d faked his suicide and they’d been wide and empty, he looked warmer this way, or maybe this sense of serenity came from his mood beforehand.

Sebastian’s hands cinching the tourniquet tight and he stared at Jim for a moment, trying to match him up to the breathing one he’d seen not ten minutes ago before chastising himself and standing, firmly tugging on Sherlock’s shoulder. He needed to get the man out of there first, then he could do all his mourning. If he tried now, there was no way he’d be any use to Sherlock.

Sherlock leaned down to kiss Jim’s forehead one last time in almost a blessing, eyes welling with tears, “Wait for us, I need to shake your hand.”


End file.
